


Curiosity

by SingManyFaces



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Thirst Trap Anakin Skywalker, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 21:33:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19036000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingManyFaces/pseuds/SingManyFaces
Summary: Ahsoka decides to get a little experimental while releasing some tension.





	Curiosity

Rolling onto her other side and burrowing a little deeper under the blanket, Ahsoka drifted slowly awake to the inviting smells of a cooking breakfast.  Having the quarters that she shared with her masters to herself while they were away on assignments had its advantages but, she had to admit, it _was_ nice not to have to cook in the morning…She bolted upright as the thought sank in, heart hammering in her chest as she blinked down at the blanket covering her before throwing it off as if it had offended her.  Falling asleep on their comfortable old couch hadn’t been what she’d planned, she definitely hadn’t had the blanket when she’d laid down.  One of her masters must have returned during the night—but which was due back first?  She palmed her chin in thought as she tried to remember and the feeling of metal pressed against her skin startled her again.  Taking a shaky breath, she looked to her right hand—the gold rings that she’d worn for the first time the night before still sheathed her fingertips. 

 

“You moving around out there, Snips?”

 

_Anakin._   Of course he would be the one to return first when she had been—

 

“Good timing, I’m just about done,” he continued from the kitchenette, “Meet me at the table.” 

 

Shaking her head to forcibly move on from her train of thought, she hurriedly slipped the rings into one of her pockets as she climbed out of the couch.  “Y-yeah, be right there.”  

 

Anakin made his way to the table, dishes balanced on his forearm, as Ahsoka seated herself in front of one of the empty plates waiting there.  “Found you on the couch when I got in last night, late.”  He offered her an amused smile as he began setting everything down.  “Didn’t even make it to your room before crashing, Snips?” Chuckling, a hint of pride colored his voice, “Must have been training hard.”

 

An awkward little laugh tripped out of her mouth before she could squelch it completely.  “I guess so.”

 

Knocking his shoulder into hers as he seated himself, “That’s my girl.”

 

Quiet settled over them, companionable on his end and tense on hers, as they filled their plates and began to eat; she stared determinedly down at her food whenever she caught him trying to cast her a questioning look.  After a few such avoidances, to her great relief, he stopped.  They had nearly finished—Anakin poking idly at a datapad over his second caf while Ahsoka claimed the last of the sausage—when he spoke again.  “You don’t have to hide your rings, you know.”

 

Her hand slipped, making her knife screech gratingly against the plate, and they both winced.  “What?”

 

“You can wear them around me, I don’t mind.”  He offered her a warm, comforting smile.  “I know how close you are with Master Plo,” he assured her, “They’re like his, right?”

 

Her mouth went suddenly dry, and she could feel her lekku flush; clearly Anakin had assumed the other master had inspired some sort of tribute.  It was close enough to the truth that she nodded.  “Ah—y-yes.”  She tried to smile but it was a small, quick thing.

 

His was stronger.  “Well, like I said.”  Anakin gave a half-shrug and began to stack the empty plates.  “Once you finish up there and get dressed we’ll head down to one of the salles, it’s been too long since we’ve practiced together,” playfully, over his shoulder, “You can show me what you were working so hard on yesterday.”

 

Still burning with embarrassment, she shoved the remaining sausage into her mouth rather than answer.

 

~*~

 

Hours later they returned, drenched in sweat and muscles pleasantly sore from their training.  “ _Most_ impressive, Ahsoka—” he told her again, “It’s like I never left, the way you matched me today.”   

 

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, deflecting the words with a wave of her hand.  “I just practiced the exercises you recorded for me.”  Tilting a conspiratorial smile up at him, “You were right about those Form IV alterations.”

 

Chuckling, he ducked his head.  “Well, you certainly worked me hard with them!  We’ll have to show Obi-Wan when he gets back.”

 

Ahsoka tried not to beam up at him, even if she knew she must be glowing in the Force.  It was just about the highest praise her master gave, wanting to show something off to Obi-Wan.  “I’m game,” she agreed, managing to keep the butterflies in her stomach from fluttering up into her voice. 

 

“For now, though,” he told her, plucking at his shirt to unstick it from his skin, “a shower is definitely in order.”  Rolling his shoulders, considering, “Or, on second thought, a good _bath._ ”  Anakin stopped in their hallway, jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the refresher door.  “You want to get in there first?”

 

She knew well what that meant—if Anakin was going to take the time to draw a bath he was going to take the time to have a good soak, too.  “That’s okay,” she declined, leaning back against the closed door to her room, “I think I’d like to do a bit more cool-down before I shower.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Anakin shrugged, peeling off his shirt.  “I’ll knock when I’m done.”

 

Nodding belatedly, she was glad she could use their recent exertion to excuse the bright flush of her lekku.  “Thanks!”  Ahsoka waited until the refresher door had closed behind him before ducking into her own room and tapping in the code to lock it.  After a moment’s concentration she could tell that the water was running in the refresher, and it was only then that she allowed herself to skin out of her clothes and retrieve her rings.

 

Getting them had been a long process.  Finding the materials had been easy—scavenged from the last time that Anakin had given Senator Amidala’s protocol droid an upgrade—finding someone to do the work, less so.  After all, she couldn’t just go to one of the temple quartermasters as Master Plo did.  Eventually she’d found someone a few levels down, a reputable craftsman who was willing to take a lower down payment than usual; then she’d had to save up the rest from her regular stipend.  She’d managed to pull it all off without anyone being any the wiser, and then…With a groan she flopped back onto her bed.

 

She’d fallen asleep on the _couch._

 

Not only had Anakin seen the rings, but he’d commented on them.  Not only had he commented, but he’d encouraged her to wear them—around him, no less!  Sighing, she tried to will away her returning embarrassment as she slid the little sheathes back into place on her fingers, each one ending just below her first knuckle.  As she watched the light glint off their smooth surfaces she couldn’t help wondering: would he still feel that way if he knew they’d been inspired by _his_ hand, rather than Master Plo’s?   

 

Ahsoka knew from talking with other padawans that it wasn’t all that unusual for them to develop certain…feelings for their masters.  The long hours spent in each other’s company, and the bonds they formed through the Force, leant themselves easily to it.  So no, it wasn’t her attraction to Anakin at the heart of her embarrassment.  It was the worry that—if he knew about her curiosity for his hand—he’d be angry with her, or disappointed.  The thought of inspiring those reactions had almost been enough to keep her from getting the rings in the first place.

 

_But._

 

She just didn’t look at his mechno hand the same way that he did.  For as long as she’d known him it had been a part of who he was; when she thought about her master’s hands, so rarely unhidden by his gloves, she pictured the elegant lines of both flesh and metal.  And so, when she thought about how her master’s hands would feel _on_ her, she couldn’t help wondering what that metal would feel like.  So she had done something about it. 

 

Having finally saved enough to pick the rings up, she’d spent the day before looking forward to trying them out.  But in the end Anakin’s guess hadn’t been too far off the mark; she’d worked so hard at her Forms that, once back in their shared quarters, she’d barely gotten beyond her lekku before passing out.  What she had now wasn’t quite the same level of privacy but she wasn’t about to let the opportunity go to waste.

 

Closing her eyes, the day’s training still fresh in her mind, she thought of the careful, questioning touches Anakin used when tending to her injuries or aching muscles; it was those that she mimicked as she began to navigate her body.  She found the sheathes on her fingertips were nearly as warm as her bare hand as she traced down the markings on her face, let the wing on her cheek lead her to her lek; a shiver took her body as she used both hands to run the length of her lekku.  The metal she wore felt cooler against their flushed tips before she slipped it away, chill sensation sparking under her skin as she trailed her fingertips over her breast, drew her nipple taut with teasing touches.  The rings gave her a surprisingly pleasant disconnect, her body’s reactions seemingly stronger without the added feedback from her fingertips, helping the illusion that she’d set out to create for herself.

 

She wanted to feel it lower.

 

Her hand traveled down, her stomach fluttering beneath it.  Ahsoka stopped at the vee of her hip, hesitating, listening for a moment to the soft sound of her panting.  _Anakin never hesitates_ , she reminded herself, slipping her hand into the wetness waiting between her legs.  Her breath caught as she circled her clit, that lovely disconnect even stronger there, though the illusion faltered briefly as one of the rings loosened on her finger. 

_Alright,_ she noted, carefully working it back into place, _so I won’t go deeper._    

           

Ahsoka was a bit more cautious with her movements when she started again, but soon enough found a rhythm that had her gasping.  As her hips rocked against her hand, memories of that afternoon rose in her mind.  Then, as now, her body had begun to move on pure instinct.  _Then_ she had never felt more in sync with Anakin as they repelled the remotes in the salle, her movements complimenting his perfectly, his completing hers in turn.  They had flowed together, one move into the next, into the next, and the whole time he’d radiated like a sun into the Force with his pride and pleasure with her—

 

Her breath stuttered to a stop as her orgasm crashed upon her, curling onto her side as the aftershocks rippled through her.  Her heart pounded in her ears as she slowly came back down, then the sound of her breathing, starting to return to normal.  Ahsoka only realized she’d nodded off when she was woken by a sharp rap at her door, her eyes startling open; she had no idea how long she’d been out.

 

But it must have been a while, because the sound was followed by Anakin’s voice, “All yours, Snips!”

 

Laughing quietly, she felt around with her left hand for something to clean her rings with as she called back, “Thanks, Skyguy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
